


Is California Mine?

by insatiablerealist



Series: California [3]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Because it's the early 2000s and political operatives can't be open about it, Bisexual Character, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9406895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insatiablerealist/pseuds/insatiablerealist
Summary: Josh and Sam admit they've both been in love with each other for years, but the need to protect their careers keeps them from developing a relationship. With Sam's imminent loss in the California special election looming over them, they're both worried their friendship might not recover.Rewrite of The California 47th and Red Haven's On Fire, filling in gaps and using Josh and Sam's relationship to add to the original plot of the episodes. This probably won't make sense unless you've read the first two fics in this series.





	1. Chapter 1

“Sam!” Josh’s voice carried over the applause from the crowd as Sam and the President stepped down from the stage, and Sam grinned as he caught sight of his friend. 

“Hey!” He pulled Josh into a tight hug as soon as he reached him. “Where were you?

“Sorry, I had a . . . thing. I only caught the tail end of your speech,” Josh muttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam said, brushing off Josh’s non-explanation. “I’m just glad to see you. I’ve missed you.” He had; he was surprised by just how relieved he had felt to see Josh in person. After the rocky start to the events with the President, Sam  felt like something was finally going right today.

“By the way, what the hell happened to your hair?” Josh asked, laughing. 

“What do you mean?” 

“It's about a foot long, do they not have scissors in California or something?”

“I know it's a  _ little _ long, but . . .” Sam trailed off, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. 

Josh looked like he could have happily kept the jokes up all night, but instead he said, “Nah, it's not horrible. Somehow you pull it off, even if you have turned into a hippie.” They walked in the direction of the motorcade. “Hey, do you want to get a drink and then we can really talk?” Josh asked suddenly. “Unless you have something else.”

“I was just going to go straight back to the hotel.” Sam glanced over to the President, who was standing a few yards away.

Josh followed Sam’s gaze, watching as the President yelled something into his cell phone, presumably ranting to Leo yet again. “I guess our entrance wasn’t the smoothest this evening.”

Sam snorted. “Understatement of the year. Come on. We can get a drink in the hotel bar.”

After his initial joy at seeing Josh wore off, Sam became aware of the awkwardness that still hung between them. He had stayed true to his word and he and Josh had talked on the phone several times in the last few weeks, but most of their conversations had been fairly banal. On election night in his office, Sam had been so sure that Josh felt something for him, something like his feelings for Josh that he had earnestly ignored for years. Almost three months had passed, though, they had yet to address that night and its resulting tension.

Now, they soon exhausted their store of small talk. The campaign was the last thing Sam wanted to bring up, and Josh seemed reluctant to talk about anything from the White House, so they struggled to find another topic. That, of course, led to both of them drinking without speaking, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence but not knowing how. 

“Josh?” 

“Yeah?” Josh looked up from where he was slouched over the bar, raising his eyebrows, and Sam turned to face him.

“Can you remind me why you thought this was a good idea?”

“What, you wondering how I possibly talked you into this?”

Sam gave a small smile, though he was anything but happy. “That’s not what I should have said. I meant, why did you think I would be good at this?” His own voice sounded distant and small, as if he was listening to himself without actually speaking.

Josh pulled himself upright, recognizing Sam’s genuine concern. “Because you're a genius,” he began. Sam shook his head, opening his mouth to protest, but Josh continued. “Running for office has always been the next step for you. You’ve got a great mind for the legal system, and politics and rhetoric, but beyond that, you’re honest. You actually want to improve the world, unlike some of the people we have to work with. You’re the real thing, Sam.” Josh was looking at him with the kind of intent concentration Sam usually saw in his eyes during monologues on the political issues Josh was most passionate about. He felt his stomach swoop at the thought that Josh felt just as fervently about him.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I needed that.”

“Maybe you’re not wondering how I talked you into this, but I sure am,” Josh muttered, taking a swig from his beer.

“Please, let’s not go there.”

“Alright.” Josh shrugged, slumping over the bar. “Just—I’ve missed you too, and I wish I never told you to take this stupid gig.”

“So you’ve said,” Sam pointed out, remembering their first phone conversation.

“I’m serious, what was I thinking?”

It occurred to Sam that, delicate as Josh's system was, he couldn't possibly have had more than two beers, so alcohol didn’t explain why he had suddenly become so despairing. It must have been a bad week at the White House. “I’m the one who’s out here on some sort of extended fool’s errand,” he reminded. In Sam’s opinion, Josh was whining quite a lot for someone who hadn't been campaigning every minute for the last few months in one of the most famously conservative districts in the country. 

“Yeah, but . . .” Josh couldn’t seem to come up with a valid retort.

Sam laughed. “I’m glad you came.”

“Of course the President was gonna come campaign for you. For all the good it’s done.”

“No, I meant, I’m glad  _ you _ came.” As much as he'd missed everyone from the White House, it was Josh he had really been looking forward to seeing again, and he knew how likely it could have been for Josh to be kept in Washington by some sudden emergency.

Josh turned to him, looking oddly surprised. “Well, yeah. Of course  _ I _ was gonna come, too. I couldn’t miss the chance to interfere with your campaign management.”

“It’s what you do best.”

“And I’m gonna be there for your next campaign, and the next one, and the one after that.”

“You really think I can do this? I’m not an idiot, I’ve been watching the polls. You really think that after  _ this _ I’ll have a career in politics?” he asked incredulously.

“Of course you will,” Josh said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re a great candidate, you’re just running in the wrong place. But someday you’ll be a congressman, or a senator, or a governor. Hell, someday you’re going to be president.”

Sam had been taking a sip of his drink, and he nearly choked. After clearing his throat, he spoke. “President Bartlet said something like that once. The night he was playing chess with me and Toby.” He remembered how surprised he had been to hear the President predict his future so nonchalantly. 

“He was right. Sam, you’re gonna run for president, and you’re gonna be the best damn candidate we’ve ever seen. And I’m gonna run your campaign,” he added lightly.

“Why do you think so highly of me?” Sam asked, not distracted by Josh’s humorous tone. Josh's belief in him was still catching him off-guard. He had always felt like the member of senior staff with the least experience, and he was the youngest. He had half expected to end up working Josh's campaigns someday. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m far from perfect. And we work with some amazing people. You, for example, are a hell of a lot better at this kind of thing than I am. So why do you have so much confidence in me?”

“I just told you, you’re smart, honest, are you really gonna make me repeat it all?” Josh laughed, pretending to be exasperated. 

“No, I just don’t—I’m not unique,” Sam said, still baffled. “I don’t get why you’re so set on getting me elected to something. In four years you’re certainly going to have plenty of offers to choose from, if you don’t already. Why not pick someone else?”

“Because . . .” Josh ran a hand through his hair. He looked around the room at nothing in particular, with a rather frantic look in his eyes. “Because damn it, Sam, I’m in love with you!” Josh’s voice dropped to a heated whisper, and Sam’s heart stopped. Josh immediately shifted in his seat, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve been sitting on that one for a while,” he muttered after an uncomfortable pause, clearly surprised by his own admission.

“Yeah,” Sam said, at a loss for words. He had suspected, certainly, and taken notice of his own seemingly hopeless feelings, but he had never thought about it in those terms, and yet now it seemed so obvious. Every moment of their friendship, maybe not since the day they met but at least since the start of the first campaign, made more sense now. The swell in his chest he had felt seeing Josh standing outside the door at Gage Whitney, soaking wet and beaming. The way he had literally dropped everything without thinking twice. It hadn’t just been the promise of an inspiring presidential candidate; he had barely known Bartlet’s name at the time. It was Josh, Josh having faith in this candidate and in Sam, and leading him on to bigger and better things. Sam had been in love with him from that moment on without ever realizing.

“You gonna say something or are you just gonna stare at me?” Josh asked nervously, and Sam realized he had been silently gaping for quite a while. 

“I-I love you, too.” The words sounded trite coming out of his mouth; it sounded like he was just saying the line he was supposed to with no feeling. Apparently Josh didn’t think so, though, because he let out a deep breath.

“Thank God,” he sighed, then looked away and laughed, sounding slightly hysterical.

“Do you—do you want to come up to my room?” Sam asked hesitantly, adrenaline still racing through him. 

Josh froze and quickly looked back at him. “Are you propositioning me?”

“No! I just, look, do you really think a bar is the best place to have this conversation?” he muttered, giving a significant glance around the room. 

“Point taken.”

So, with his heart racing and and more than a little anxiety creeping up on him, Sam led Josh upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Josh knew Sam honestly wasn't trying to be suggestive when he took him up to his room, but he also knew that the tension between them had become undeniable since his stupid dramatic confession. So when Sam closed the door and began rambling about something meaningless, Josh shut him up by pressing him against the door and kissing him before he could think better of it. 

A moment later, he realized what he was doing and pulled back. “Sorry!” he said automatically. “I shouldn't’ve . . .” But even as he started apologizing, he was thinking how wonderful Sam's lips felt under his. 

“Fine by me,” Sam said weakly. He looked surprised, but he was smiling. “But I thought we were going to talk.”

“Do we have to?” It wasn't that Josh didn't want to talk. It was just bound to be awkward and uncomfortable, and he always wanted to skip this part of relationships. Not that this was a relationship. Necessarily. He really had no idea what this was.

“I'd like to talk. Come on.” Josh sighed. Clearly this was important to Sam, so he let himself be led over to the table. He pulled his jacket off and sat down as Sam pushed the morning’s newspapers to one side. 

When Josh said nothing, Sam prompted him. “You're the one who started this.”

“Alright, alright. Look, I've been crazy about you since grad school. I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that you're a very good-looking man.” Josh couldn't help glancing down to give Sam a once-over as he spoke, distracting himself from what he was actually saying. He still couldn't quite believe he was admitting to this aloud. He'd barely allowed himself to think about it, not just because Sam was a man, although that was a large part of it, but because Sam had been his best friend for so long that it felt like a betrayal of their friendship to feel something more than platonic affection for him. But now that feeling was apparently reciprocated, and that changed everything. “And you have all those other nice qualities, that you know because you made me list them. Several times. You’ll notice I didn’t include your ridiculous, insanity-inducing persistence on that list,” Josh said with a smirk.

Sam smiled, then asked insistently, “But I never knew you liked men.”

“Yeah, well, it's not the kind of thing you flaunt in our line of work. And I like women too, so it wasn't hard to just, you know. Ignore it.” Josh hated ignoring it, though. He thought about all the times he had fought a little too hard for any gay rights issue that came across his desk, and how more than once he had come close to saying something that would have made it undeniably personal. But he would always shut himself up by thinking,  _ well, I'm not gay, technically, so why should it bother me? _ But those issues always did bother him, even when he was studiously ignoring his impulse to notice how his best friend looked in a well-cut shirt. 

“Did you ever . . . have a relationship with a man?” Sam asked, snapping him away from his depressive inner monologue. 

Josh was fairly sure that wasn't the question Sam had meant to ask, so he answered the unspoken one instead. “I slept with a few in college. It was never anything more than one night, though. I realized pretty quickly that I would have to cut that out if I was serious about getting into politics.” And he had felt as if he was lying to himself, and possibly everyone around him, by trying to hide a certain part of his existence, but this career meant too much to risk it. “What about you?” Josh asked. He’d certainly never thought Sam was anything approaching gay. 

“I've never . . . there's never been any other men I've been attracted to. At least, I don't think so. I didn't even start to figure out how I felt about you until that night in your office, after the election. When you told me how great I was going to be,” Sam said softly. 

“I thought you were gonna kiss me that night,” Josh admitted. 

“I thought  _ something _ was going to happen. Anyway, once I was on my own out here I realized I must have been feeling something these past few years, but I didn't put it into words until ten minutes ago.”

“When you were just staring at me, not saying anything, I was sure you were going to run out or insult me or something.”

Sam laughed. “No, I was just reevaluating the last five years of my life.” 

Josh couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he just watched Sam. It was honestly astounding that Sam felt the same thing Josh did. It was astounding someone as great as Sam felt  _ anything  _ for Josh. He couldn't believe, after all these years of stealing wistful glances and ignoring thoughts he knew he couldn't act on, that he was now sitting in Sam's hotel room, having this conversation. His heart wanted to beat out of his chest, and the adrenaline was making him feel like he could do anything, but Josh knew he had to be careful. He had no idea how far Sam would want to take this. 

“You know.” Sam once again interrupted Josh's runaway train of thought. “I'm satisfied with the amount of talking we’ve done at this point.”

“Meaning what?”

Sam smirked. “You can kiss me again anytime you like.”

That was all Josh needed to hear to step to the other side of the table and pull Sam up by his lapels. Why the hell was he still wearing his jacket? This time it wasn't clear who kissed who first, and this time neither one pulled back. Josh tried to push Sam's jacket off his shoulders as quickly as possible, but he was significantly distracted by Sam’s tongue stroking against his lips. 

Eventually it was off, though, and they clumsily began to work on untying each other's ties. Josh had pushed Sam against the table, and had one hand buried in his hair. He was quite intent on unbuttoning Sam’s shirt as well, but Sam’s mouth was currently doing something to Josh’s neck that was making it hard to remember how to stand, let alone undo buttons. 

Josh managed to wordlessly communicate somehow that they should make their way to the bed, and Sam got the message, pushed himself off the table, and dragged Josh over. Before either of them really knew what they were doing, Sam’s shirt had come off, and the rest of their clothing quickly followed. And then, though it was the last thing Josh had expected to do that night, they made love. 

Later, when Josh was lying with an arm draped across Sam’s chest and both of them were still breathing hard, he reflected that it was hardly the best sex he'd ever had. Too clumsy, though that was to be expected, honestly. But that hardly mattered to him right now. He was tempted to pinch himself to make sure this was real and not some ridiculously vivid dream that would make it impossible to look Sam in the eye for the rest of his life.

Just when Josh had convinced himself that he was in fact awake and could relax, Sam murmured, “I suppose you’re not going to stay the night.”

“Fuck.” Josh had managed to forget, at least in some part of his brain, that Sam was a Congressional candidate, and they both had reputations to keep up. He had remembered something along those lines well enough to stop himself from leaving any marks on Sam that couldn't be covered by his shirt, but he had briefly imagined that they would have more time together. That they could act like a normal couple. But he rapidly dropped back into reality. It was stupid for them to even have done this in the first place. In fact, it was enormously stupid. He could already picture CJ murdering them both with her bare hands if this ever became a scandal. “Yeah, you're right, I gotta go.” He moved to get up, but Sam pulled him back down. 

“Wait, I didn’t want to kick you out. It's—” He glanced at the bedside clock. “It's 2 am. We’ll be up in a few hours anyway. Just stay.”

“Sam—”

“You were planning on coming over in the morning anyway. Just say you got here early.”

“You know we can’t do this. We shouldn’t have done this.”

Sam instantly tensed beside him, and Josh mentally slapped himself for letting that slip out. “I know,” Sam said quietly after a long moment. “But we don’t have to think like that tonight.”

“Okay.” He pulled Sam closer. “I'll stay.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Josh woke up, Sam was already in the shower. Josh expected him to say something other than a stiff “good morning” when he walked out, but he didn't, so Josh got in the shower himself without really saying anything at all. 

As the hot water gradually woke him up, he considered Sam's attitude more carefully. He was clearly upset; if only Josh had just shut up last night. He had stated the obvious, but still, he had been terrified that if he had said nothing acknowledging what a stupid situation they had gotten themselves into it would somehow spin out of control before he knew it. 

Sam kept his silence as they made coffee, so Josh was almost relieved when Toby and CJ showed up. Too late, he realized that he hadn't even bothered to button his shirt, let alone put on his tie. It had seemed pointless since he would be changing in under an hour, but now, he reconsidered that idea. Toby didn't give him a second look, of course, but CJ started shooting him questioning glances the minute she stepped through the door. 

“You're here early,” she said pointedly.

“Yep.” 

She waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, she gave him another definitely skeptical look before sitting down at the same table that Josh had made out with Sam against the night before. He tried to push that thought from his head and focus.

“Good morning, Sam,” CJ said pleasantly when Sam came over. 

“Yeah,” he muttered quickly without looking at her. She stared at him, shocked by his apathetic reaction. Even Toby looked up from his paper in surprise. Sam, apparently unaware of how strangely he was acting, poured himself a cup of coffee, paying no attention to the three other people in the room. Behind his back, CJ turned to Josh, as if she thought whatever was going on with Sam was his fault. She was probably right, but Josh just shrugged at her. 

As they all looked over the morning’s papers, Sam’s attitude got worse instead of better. Josh wasn’t exactly surprised to hear him list all the reasons their trip was going horribly, but Sam usually managed to find something positive to focus on. Wanting to do something to make him feel better, when Sam stood up and announced he had a strategy breakfast, Josh asked, “Want me to come?”

“No, that’s okay.” 

“Let him come, Sam,” Toby muttered.

Sam stiffly made excuses by mentioning Josh’s inability to work with Scott Holcomb and implying that he trusted Scott’s advice more than Josh’s, despite Scott being considerably more stupid. It became abundantly clear that he just didn’t want Josh around. Josh wondered what Toby and CJ could possibly be thinking, since he couldn’t come up with a half-decent reason for Sam to be mad at him other than the obvious one.

As Sam walked swiftly to the door, Josh followed him. “Some polls have you within seven, if you only lost by seven that’d by huge,” he said, hoping to boost Sam’s spirits.

Sam turned to him sharply, offended. “I don’t want to think like that yet.” With that, he left the room.

“Good,” Josh said to the door as it swung shut.

“What was that all about?” CJ asked when Josh turned back to the table.

“He's pissed at us. We were supposed to save his campaign and instead we’ve tanked it,” Toby said flatly, getting up to get more coffee. 

“But he was mad at you,” CJ said, pointing to Josh. “You weren't even there last night, and you were just offering to help.”

“Yeah, well, who knows what goes on in Sam’s mind,” he muttered, hating himself for belittling Sam like that.

“I think you better find him and apologize for whatever stupid thing you said that set him off, or he's going to be a lot harder to deal with,” CJ told him. 

“Who says I said anything!” Josh protested. 

“Josh. Sam's touchy, especially right now, but he doesn't get mad for no reason.”

“Okay.” He wondered if he should tell CJ what was really going on. She seemed to have a pretty good guess already from the suspicious looks she gave his wrinkled shirt. But he wasn't going to say anything with Toby in the room, and he didn't know how Sam would feel about anyone finding out. Or even how CJ would react, for that matter. His nightmare of her throttling him from the night before came back to him. Better to just change the subject. “So what are we going to do about the tax plan?”

 

*  *  *

 

Josh wanted to talk to Sam as soon as possible, but with their equally busy but completely different schedules, he didn't see him again until late afternoon. He found Sam in a conference room between meetings. 

“Hey,” he said, walking in and closing the door behind him. 

“Hello.” Sam’s tone was still cold, and he didn't look up from the papers he was flipping through when Josh sat down across from him. 

“Hey, before, when I mentioned the polls, I wasn’t trying to say—”

“That I’m going to lose no matter what?” Sam cut him off, looking up. Sam spent so much time being cheerful and starry-eyed that it wrenched Josh’s heart to see how angry and empty his gaze looked now.  

Josh scratched his head, at a loss for words. He  _ had _ meant that Sam was going to lose no matter what. He hadn't been thinking it in such harsh terms, but that was certainly what was on his mind. “Hey, you've got a week, you never know,” he said feebly. 

“Yeah.” Sam said, disbelieving. He turned back to his papers. 

“And last night, when I said that we shouldn’t have, y’know. I didn’t mean I regretted it.”

Sam sighed. “But you still had to point out how impossible it would be to have anything.” His voice became choked towards the end of his sentence, and he wouldn’t meet Josh’s eyes.

“Look, I would love to hold your hand in public, and go home with you every other night,” Josh said, whispering even though he knew they were alone. For a moment he began to imagine having a real relationship with Sam, and the thought was so wonderful that he almost forgot the rest of what he was trying to say. “But for us to see each other, even if we tried to keep it hidden, would be so unbelievably risky. If anyone found out, which would happen eventually, our careers would be over. Leo and the President wouldn't fire us but we'd never get another job. Forget running for president.” His voice had risen in volume, and he now let out a hysterical laugh. “I mean, last night was so unbelievably stupid! You’re running for Congress, for crying out loud!”

“You think I don't know any of that?” Sam stood suddenly and paced the room. 

“Well, I can’t tell!” Josh half-shouted, thrown off by Sam’s sudden show of anger. 

“Of course I do! I'm not an idiot,” he snapped, leveling Josh with a hard glare.

“Then why—”

“Why did I get upset? Because you’ve had years to come to terms with this and I just figured it out less than 24 hours ago. No one found out, no one has any idea, we’re not going to cause a scandal, and I just wanted to have one night where we were happy! I wanted to pretend that we were normal.” Even though Josh had had almost the same thought the night before, the tone with which Sam spat the last word stung him. 

“I stayed the night, didn't I? It was just a stupid thing I said!” Josh vaguely remembered that he had come here to apologize. A part of him began to regret getting mad, but that was drowned out by the part of him sensing that he was being told he was wrong, and he was obviously right, and he had to prove that. It was a gut reaction that made him great at his job and horrible at relationships. Not that this really was a relationship, he reminded himself, but that, of course, was the problem.

“A stupid thing that you just repeated, in sentiment if not literally, and you were right. We can't have anything approaching a relationship,” Sam said quietly, seemingly reading Josh’s mind. He walked back over to the table. “I have to read these, if you don't mind.”

“Sam—”

“Can I have the room, please?” It wasn't a question, and Josh felt himself go cold. Sam was kicking him out. 

“Okay. See you tonight.” Josh muttered, pulling himself to his feet. He walked to the door and paused to wait for a response, but Sam said nothing. 

 

*  *  *

 

Sam felt horrible as soon as he left the hotel in the morning. He knew that even if he had a good reason for being angry with Josh, he had been too harsh. It occurred to him that he should probably apologize to CJ and Toby, because they had also been on the receiving end of his anger and they hadn’t really done anything at all. The problem was, he was still angry. 

Logically, Sam knew that everything Josh had said in the wee hours of the morning was true. But he had thought it could remain unspoken. It was so obvious they couldn’t have anything approaching a relationship; why did Josh have to say it out loud? Similarly, Sam knew that logically, he would lose the election without a doubt. But if he started thinking like that, there would be no point in campaigning until election day.

The only reason Sam had given Will Bailey his name in the first place was because he believed in strengthening the Democratic Party and standing up for what he believed in. If he admitted defeat before every last ballot was counted, he would be letting go of those ideals as well. And Josh had to go and knock down what feeble confidence Sam had built in himself by saying that he might  _ only  _ lose by seven points. As if that was anything to be proud of. 

Sam spent the morning speeding through his meetings without taking anything in. He could hear himself being unusually distant to his staff, but he didn’t have the willpower to act differently. In almost every moment he wasn’t expected to say something, and quite a few in which he was, he was thinking of some snappy retort he should have given Josh, either lying in bed or standing by the door. 

When he wasn’t creating imaginary arguments, his mind was wandering in a completely different direction. Between Josh’s confession last night and their rather hasty move to Sam’s bed, there hadn’t been much time to process what had happened. Then his anger had made him forget to do the processing when he first got up in the morning. So now, in the middle of meetings he definitely should be paying attention to, Sam thought about the implications of whatever had happened the night before.

What if Josh hadn’t tactlessly reminded him that they were making a mistake? No, that wouldn’t have made a difference. They would have just had that conversation later. Instead, Sam imagined what could have happened if one of them was female. It would still be awkward, certainly. They had a decade of friendship to balance with a romantic relationship, and they were coworkers in a line of work that definitely couldn’t handle any added drama. But what if they got past all of that and made it work? All Sam knew was that he felt more strongly for Josh than he ever had for Laurie or Mallory. In fact, he realized he hadn’t been so head over heels for someone since the early days of his relationship with Lisa, an observation that made him question himself almost as much as the initial realization that he was attracted to Josh at all.

Alternating between intense anger and hopeless longing, Sam did not enjoy his morning. The first genuinely good moment of the day was when he saw Donna. He had missed her as much as he had missed Josh; possibly more, because his feelings towards Donna were unreservedly positive.

Sam’s schedule was horribly packed, but he managed to sit down for lunch with her for a few minutes. “So. How have things  _ really _ been going?” she asked once his campaign staff had disappeared.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about the campaign,” he muttered.

“I didn’t think you would,” Donna said with a gentle smile. “Have you had time for anything else lately?”

“Not at all, no,” Sam laughed. That wasn’t true, though. He opened his mouth, then hesitated. He desperately wanted to talk to someone about what had happened between him and Josh. And if he could talk to anyone, he could talk to Donna. “Can I tell you something that you can absolutely never repeat?”

Her expression immediately shifted to one of concern. “Of course.”

Sam glanced around, making sure no one was nearby. “Josh and I slept together last night.”

Donna’s eyes widened more than he would have thought possible. “You  _ what? _ How did that even happen?”

“Well, it started with him confessing his love for me and it ended with us going to my hotel room,” Sam muttered, starting to regret telling her as he realized how awkward this conversation could become.

“Wow.” She stared forward for a few moments, shocked. “You realize that there’s a lot to take in with what you just told me, right?”

He smiled sympathetically. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean to throw that at you.” He remembered that Donna was probably just as smitten with Josh as he was, and he felt even worse about bringing this up.

“I didn’t know either of you were gay or bi or whatever, for one thing,” she muttered. “I did know you’re obsessed with each other but I never thought there was anything romantic going on. And I’m finding it almost impossible to believe that it all started with  _ Josh _ making an emotional confession.”

“I was pretty blown away myself,” Sam said into his water glass, not making eye contact. He was regretting bringing this up more and more by the second. 

“I can imagine. But there’s a reason you’re telling me, I’m assuming. I mean, other than for the fun of it,” she added dryly. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, remembering what he had wanted to talk about. He pushed the glass away and looked over at Donna. “Josh and I are now not talking to each other, and it’s probably my fault. Well, no actually, a lot of it is definitely his fault. But I’m not guiltless.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Donna sighed. She took a deep breath. “Okay, how did you two screw up?”

“Last night he made a comment about how we can’t actually be together and implied that it was a mistake doing anything at all,” Sam began quietly. “That pissed me off, for obvious reasons, and I was short with him this morning. I kind of stormed out, actually.”

“Oh, Sam.” Donna leaned forward to pat his hand, and he could tell from her slight smile that she was being jokingly condescending on purpose. “You need to talk to him.”

“I know.”

“You know how Josh is, he says things without thinking. He’s probably beating himself up about it right now.”

“I know that, too.”

“But you don’t want to talk to him, because that would be hard?” she guessed.

“Something like that.”

“Well, tough.”

Sam laughed. “Thanks.” 

“You know I’m right. Just have a conversation with him. Tell him why you’re angry, and apologize for being an idiot, and if that doesn’t work, then you can sulk. But I can’t guarantee that I’ll listen to you,” Donna said, her eyes twinkling.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, shaking his head. “There’s no way you could have expected to deal with something like this.

“It’s safe to say that this is the last thing I expected to happen on this trip.” 

Sam glanced at his watch and winced. “I have a meeting, sorry.” He stood to leave.

Donna stood up too, gathering her things. “Oh, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry you two aren’t talking, obviously, but good for you. About last night.” She gave him a genuine smile, not ironic or condescending this time. Sam smiled back. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for her to be jealous of him, and he was honestly surprised she wasn’t.

“Thanks, Donna. And I will talk to him.”

“Good. Good luck!” she called as he walked away. 

Sam fully intended to take Donna’s advice. He was even willing to apologize. But when Josh walked into the room later that afternoon, he remembered all the reasons why he had been angry in the morning and he couldn’t bring himself to take Josh’s apology seriously. Then Josh (predictably) repeated exactly what had upset Sam in the first place. So “talking” rapidly became arguing and before he knew it, he was kicking Josh out.  
  
The next time he saw Josh, he was shouting at him about the tax plan when he wanted to be shouting about something else entirely, and by the time Sam had calmed down, Josh was on Air Force One flying back to Washington. As soon as he realized that, Sam regretted everything again. No matter how angry he was with Josh, he still loved him. Just saying that in his head sent a thrill running through him, and he had barely had time to tell Josh how he felt before he was gone again. Josh was only a phone call away now, but Sam felt as though he might as well be on the moon. All he wanted, and he wanted it desperately, was a chance to try to genuinely resolve things. Even if he couldn’t have Josh the way he wanted, he couldn’t lose their friendship. But even then, before Josh had gotten all the way to Washington, Sam had a sinking feeling that they would never go back to how they were before last night.


	3. Chapter 3

Josh wanted to talk to Sam before he got on the plane, but everyone had a million things to do and Sam didn’t hang around after his speech. In the confusion, he never got a chance. On the flight home he considered calling Sam, if not tonight then soon, but the kind of conversation they clearly needed to have didn’t seem like one that would go well over the phone. Meaning he wouldn’t talk to Sam until after the election at the earliest, when he came home. Josh had just gone more than two months without Sam, but now, after kissing him and holding him and sleeping in his bed, a week seemed unbearably long.

Josh’s distress at this prospect must have shown, because he suddenly noticed Donna following him around the plane. She must have thought she was being unobtrusive in her nosiness, but it was fairly obvious she was trying to figure out what was wrong with him. 

“What the hell do you want?” he asked eventually when she sat down next to him.

“Nothing,” she replied innocently.

“Then why are you watching me read briefing memos?”

Donna looked around, then leaned closer. “Sam told me what happened.”

Josh looked up, not meeting Donna’s eye but staring straight ahead. “Told you what?”

“What happened with you two. I was happy for you before I found out that you screwed it up instantaneously,” she murmured. “And I’m guessing from the look you’ve got on your face that he never talked to you this afternoon.”

Josh scoffed. “Oh, we talked, alright. And why did Sam tell  _ you  _ any of this?”

“He was upset!”

“Yeah, that much was apparent,” Josh muttered darkly. He remembered the horrible feeling of having all of Sam’s anger directed straight at him.

“He was upset because he obviously loves you very much and he knew he was rude to you but you hurt him first so he didn’t know what to say! I told him to apologize and he said he would.”

“Well, somewhere between your little heart-to-heart and the conversation  _ I  _ had with him, he forgot about the apology part, because he seemed pretty dead-set on blaming me for everything.”

“You  _ do  _ have horrible timing,” Donna commented.

“Thanks,” he muttered, before turning to her. “What would you know? You weren’t even there.”

“Sam told me,” she said simply, shrugging her shoulders.

“So I’ve learned. What is it with Sam telling you things, anyway? First you knew about him offering to run in the election before anyone else, now this . . .” There was a time when Josh had been the person that Sam told everything to.

“I’m sympathetic. I’m a good listener.”

“Really. See, in my experience you’re usually talking too much yourself to hear anyone else.” Josh could hear himself being ruder than he had any right to be, but just like before with Sam, he couldn’t make himself shut up.

“Josh,” Donna said sharply. “I know you’re in a bad mood, but you’ve got to stop taking it out on other people. I can take it because I’m used to you, but seriously, cut it out.”

“‘Bad mood’ is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” he grumbled, even though Donna was completely right.

“I don’t care. You’ll need to snap out of it sooner or later.”

Josh sighed. “How do you suggest I do that, exactly?”

“You and Sam have both been whining way too much today.” 

“Donna!”

“Call him!” she said with genuine exasperation in her voice. “God, just call him and talk, why is that such a hard concept?”

Josh leaned over, lowering his voice. “There are some pretty significant problems keeping Sam and I apart that just talking won’t solve. I don’t need to spell them out, do I?”

“Of course you don’t,” she said immediately, her tone growing much softer. “And I completely understand that I can’t relate to what you must be going through but I sympathize anyway. But what harm could talking to him possibly do?”

Josh fell back in his seat. “You’re right.”

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Hey, lose the sarcasm,” Josh muttered.

“I’m serious, you never listen to me,” Donna said indignantly.

“Okay, okay, I’m listening to you now. I’ll call him. But not tonight.”

Except “not tonight” turned into not the next day, and before Josh realized, it was Election Day in the 47th and he still hadn’t talked to Sam. Toby had called a couple times to update Josh about the campaign and verify that Will was still alive, but Sam never took the phone so Josh never asked to talk to him. It was pretty cowardly of him, and by the end of the week Josh not only missed Sam more than he wanted to admit, but he also hated himself for not being able to pick up the damn phone.

At 11:00, Josh found a station that was covering California news and watched the election results from Toby’s office, since no one else was using it and it had a couch. He sat through the official announcement that Sam had lost, and the anchor’s condescending “of course, who didn’t see this coming?” and he even tried to watch Sam’s concession speech, but he turned off the TV thirty seconds into it. He couldn’t stand to see Sam looking the way he did—not just defeated, but broken. And he couldn’t stand to think that he was part of the cause.

Josh found his way back to his own office eventually. Almost everyone had gone by now; the corridors were almost deserted. He had sent Donna home an hour earlier. She offered to stay with him, but knew better than to be offended when he declined. So now he sat alone in his darkened office, staring at the phone. Half a dozen times he picked it up with the intention of calling Sam, but he always put it down again, still afraid. Of what, he couldn’t really say, but at this point Sam probably didn’t want to hear from him anyway.

Just when he was about to go home, his phone rang. “Hello?” he answered, hearing his own exhaustion in even one word. 

“Hi, Josh.” If he thought his own voice sounded bad, it was nothing to how dejected Sam sounded. 

“I wasn't expecting you to call,” Josh said.

“I almost didn't. It's late in DC.”

“It's not too bad,” Josh lied, sitting up straighter and pretending he felt awake. After all, they had both had much later nights than this. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I lost by a lot more than seven points,” Sam said softly. “You must be feeling pretty dumb for saying all those nice things about me last week.”

Josh felt his heart do some weird contraction as he realized how much Sam seemed to hate himself in that moment. “Hey, listen. This had nothing to do with you, and I stand by everything I said. You were a great candidate. The universe just conspired to give you the worst luck imaginable.”

“And that really had nothing to do with me?” Even over the phone, Sam sounded skeptical. 

“Your first campaign manager was an idiot and you had to bail the second one out of jail his first night on the job! That would have tanked anyone's campaign. Plus, there's the detail of you being a Democrat running in Orange County.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

“Don't get smart with me.” For a moment, Josh forgot that they had been furious with each other the last time they spoke, and when he remembered, his heart dropped. It had been so easy to slip back into their old banter.

“I'm sorry about last week,” Sam said eventually. 

“What are you apologizing for? I was the one being an idiot.”

“No, I was too. I got way angrier than I had any right to be. You didn't tell me anything that wasn't true, I just didn't want to hear it.”

“That doesn’t mean I should have said it. Donna made sure to remind me of my terrible timing.”

“Sorry I told her. Without asking you first, I mean.”

“It’s fine. I almost told CJ, but then I figured she’d probably kill us.”

Josh wanted to make Sam laugh, but if he did, it was too quiet to hear. “Yeah.” He was silent for a long moment. “I didn't call to apologize. I mean, that's not the only reason I called.”

“What's the other reason?” Josh asked warily.

“I'm not coming back to Washington.”

Josh felt the floor fall out beneath him. “What do you mean?” he asked in a strangled voice. 

“I thought about it, and I decided that I just can't face it right now. I'm calling Leo in the morning.”

“Is this because of me?” Josh asked automatically, then immediately wanted to kick himself for being so self-centered. 

“Not entirely, no. This campaign . . . I really wanted to do this. I put all my energy into it. And then to lose so badly . . .” Sam trailed off. “I just don't think I can handle getting more and more disillusioned every day. I was considering it before last week, but that cemented it.” He paused again, then jumped back in. “I used to really love working in the West Wing, you know? I used to wake up every morning and actually be excited about what we could do that day. I haven’t felt like that in a while.”

“It's not that you don't want to have to see me every day?” Josh asked tentatively. 

“It's not that I don't want to see you, it's that I do! I don't think I could face working side by side and not being able to be with you the way I want.” So Josh was part of the reason Sam wasn’t coming back. Something else to feel guilty about. When Josh didn't say anything, Sam asked, “You still there?”

“Yeah. I was thinking. When all this started, on the night of the election, I saw this coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were standing here, in my office, and I was thinking that if you went to California, you would never come back.”

“That was a bit melodramatic, wasn't it?”

“Hey, I turned out to be right!”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I know I said it before, but I wish I'd never told you to run. Biggest mistake of my life.”

“Biggest mistake of  _ your  _ life?”

Josh ignored Sam's indignant reply and continued. “If I hadn't convinced you and everyone else it was such a great idea, you would be here.” He stopped himself from adding  _ where you belong.  _

“For one thing, you're giving yourself way too much credit. You weren't the sole reason I decided to run. And for another, if I hadn't been in California, you never would have told me you loved me, and I never would have figured out I loved you.”

“But wouldn't we be better off?” Josh asked, feeling miserable. “What's worse, not knowing, or knowing and not being able to do anything about it? I mean, at least we were friends before!”

“We didn't stop being friends just because we slept together, or just because we fought, or just because we live on opposite sides of the country,” Sam said firmly. “And I don't regret that night at all. Do you?”

“No,” he whispered. “But Sam, I'm gonna miss you like crazy. I already do, and it's only been a week.” When was the last time he had gone more than a week or two without seeing Sam, before the election? It must have been at least five years ago, when Sam was working at Gage Whitney. Their lives before they were in the White House felt like a completely different world.

“I know,” Sam replied in the same quiet, defeated voice. “I’ll miss you too, every day. If I could do right by myself and not hurt you at the same time—”

“Stop, I know you would. And I know it’s impossible.” 

They both stayed on the line without saying anything for a minute or two. “Josh?” Sam asked tentatively at last.

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Don’t be a stranger.”

“God, Sam, I love you too. I hope—” Josh cut himself off. What else could he possibly say to make this better? “I hope you find something in California that feels as good as the West Wing used to.”

“I hope you keep managing to do good work over there, without working yourself to death,” Sam replied.

“Gee, thanks. Why are we talking like this if we’re gonna stay in touch?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Josh knew the answer, and he knew Sam wouldn’t say it. After a long silence, he said, “Well, I guess I’d better sign off. You need to get some rest for once.”

“So do you, you sound terrible,” Sam shot back.

Josh let out a weak laugh, but it came out more like a cough. He tried to push away the suffocating sense of despair, but it was just like the first Election Night, when Sam was in his office with him, and Josh had suddenly felt like he would never see him again. Except this time that feeling was infinitely stronger. 

“It’s not goodbye forever, remember that,” Sam said. Yeah, right. He could throw around around whatever promises he liked, the reality was that they would both be too stubborn and hurt to pick up the phone. 

But if Sam wasn’t going to say that, then neither would Josh. “Of course it’s not. Bye for now, Sam.”

He heard a slight chuckle. “By for now, Josh,” Sam repeated. And then Josh heard a click as Sam hung up.

And that was the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, well, it took me six months to finish this, and over a year and a half to finish a very short series. Sorry about that. If anyone stuck with this I truly appreciate it.
> 
> Maybe someday I'll write an epilogue of sorts to leave this in a happier place, because I don't love ending it on such a tragic note, but I'm making no promises because I'm not hugely into West Wing anymore and I have way less free time than when I started this series. But you never know.
> 
> If anyone's interested, I [made a playlist](https://8tracks.com/allezaunord/is-california-mine) for my own fic because that's the kind of person I am.
> 
> If you read to the end, leave a comment or talk to me on [tumblr,](http://eelanorforcongress.tumblr.com) I'd love to know who you are.


End file.
